What if...

...we started with possibilities, rather than rules?

...we got carried away, then mapped how we got there afterward?

...we asked more questions and offered fewer opinions?

...we didn't stop after the first why?

...we measured our progress by the number of failures?

...we....??

You gotta' actually DO it

Bouncing among several books seems to work for me.  Whether it's a short attention span, an inability to remember which book I'm currently reading, or just a reading style (I rather like that...I may use Reading Style more often), I am usually reading multiple books.  The past couple of days, it's been The Medici Effect.  Again.  (And, by the way, I enjoyed the improv class, survived the live performance with peers, and have plans for Improv II in the spring.)

On the heels of a several discussions this week about online teaching--some with peers who teach online and some with peers who do not--I was primed to read that people who are voracious readers, self-taught, and hands-on learners are more creative.  They actually do things, try things, break things, handle things...they learn in the the somewhat gritty world of up close and personal.

And the implications for online teaching are easy.  Teachers who want to use technology to teach are going to have to move past the theory and the models and the paradigms and actually wade into the technology.  To try it, break it, handle it...get up close and personal with it.  No amount of reading, planning, discussion, or practice will take the place of actually doing it.

And the innovators?  They've already tried it, taught themselves, learned from their mistakes...and quietly (more often than not) kept right on going.  They may not be the ones doing the talking.

Un-attention

It's different from inattention, at least in the common usage.  Inattention usually means that I am not paying attention, especially when I should.  Un-attention means unlearning attention patterns that cause us to miss important parts of what's right in front of us.

If your interest is piqued, you can read more in Cathy Davidson's Now You See It: How Technology and Brain Science Will  Transform Schools and Business for the 21st Century.  According to the packing list conveniently tucked inside my copy, I ordered the book in September; I'd forgotten when I ordered it, as it somewhat took up residence on my desk.  Today, while I should have been attending to a long list of other things, I picked it up and started to read.  I know it's going to be a good read when I start reaching for a pencil to mark up my copy, then turn to the computer to research related topics...and to write.

As is my custom, I'll note here that the concepts aren't new, though the application is.  An example:

The more you concentrate, the more other things you miss.

This is both the reason why eye witness accounts are the least reliable versions of what actually happened...and why a dear friend reminds me frequently that things are often more clear when I don't try so hard to see them clearly.

I am looking forward to paying just enough attention to finish the book, as the rest will likely take care of itself. And did I mention that Davidson is an English professor?  It just keeps getting better...

In search of...

The day after I wrote about struggle, Seth Godin wrote about the value of effort:  "The work of an individual who cares often exposes the grit and determination and effort that it takes to be present."  His conclusion is that we may be searching for--and unable to find--the person behind the perfection.

In praise of struggle

This morning, part of the class discussion was "why would anyone want to be a CEO, given the stress and pressure?"  After class, a student stopped me to ask whether I was familiar with how (differently) Japanese companies approached leadership.  Later, I happened upon an NPR story about how Eastern and Western cultures tackle learning. Now I'm wondering about cultural and individual approaches to success--to how we learn and to how willing we are to struggle.

While acknowledging diversity within each of the cultures, as well as the existence of "counter-examples," the NPR article states that "(f)or the most part in American culture, intellectual struggle in schoolchildren is seen as an indicator of weakness, while in Eastern cultures it is not only tolerated, it is often used to measure emotional strength." Think about that for a minute.  The implication is that, in our Western culture, success should appear effortless and easy.

The article suggests that equating struggle with strength (rather than with weakness) means that we are more likely to demonstrate the very persistence required for success. And I'm sure I've heard this somewhere before:

Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence.  Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent.  Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb.  Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts.  Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.  The slogan Press On! has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race.

Calvin Coolidge understood the value of struggling, of persisting, of pressing on, of just not giving up.  It may be one of the most important--and most universal--lessons available.

Perhaps easy isn't really...or shouldn't be.

Cycles and seasons

Change is the only constant and yet we often resist it with everything in us.  When we have a perfect moment, we want to hold onto it...to realize later, as T.S. Eliot wrote in The Dry Salvages, "we had the experience but missed the meaning."

The changing seasons are, perhaps, the best reminder for me that all things change.  Though I have my preferences regarding weather and seasons, I will admit (in my more honest moments) that I appreciate the beauty of the cycle and the reminder of my relative importance within it.

When semesters end, elected officials change (or don't), or milestones arrive, change looms large.  So do our natural tendencies to resist.

Electing to participate

Voting is a right afforded by citizenship in my country.  And, regardless of the rhetoric that my individual vote does not matter, my decision to vote does matter.

I am an educator.  I have a responsibility to think, to challenge my own thinking, to encourage others to think, and to engage in respectful, substantive discourse about issues that matter.  Participating fully in both my rights and my responsibilities is part of being a parent, a teacher, and a citizen.